


love me properly

by birdginia



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Dubious Consent, Other, ruined orgasm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:55:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23727163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birdginia/pseuds/birdginia
Summary: He’s not exactly planning on completely breaking Brooke’s heart, after all—at least, not more than this whole upgrade plan demands—so if he can keep Brooke from getting too attached before he moves on to Christine in the end, it’ll probably be better in the long run.But his attempts at sparing maiden hearts doesn’t actually help with his biggest problem—i.e., the fact that he’s kept a consistent boner tucked into his waistband for at least a week.
Relationships: Jeremy Heere/Jeremy Heere's Squip
Comments: 7
Kudos: 35





	love me properly

**Author's Note:**

> i unearthed an old wip from last year and decided to put the finishing touches on it to finally post! enjoy.

Jeremy doesn’t remember the last time he got off.

Well, he does, sort of—it was the night before he went to that Payless, but that feels like a million years ago now even though it’s just been a couple weeks. His squip probably could give him the exact date and time from his memories, but he doesn’t want the reminder, and it seems more preoccupied with the next time he _will_ get off, if that ever happens.

Brooke is very clearly willing and waiting, Jeremy, it reminds him, constantly, but between his dad never leaving the house and Chloe stealing her away for girl-dates and Jeremy’s staunch refusal to get any further than some heavy makeouts while they’re at school that even the squip seems to agree with (You need to be impressive on your first time, not rushing to get her off before lunch is over), there just hasn’t been a chance to finally—well. Do It.

Which is actually kind of okay by Jeremy. He’s not exactly planning on completely breaking Brooke’s heart, after all—at least, not more than this whole upgrade plan demands—so if he can keep Brooke from getting too attached before he moves on to Christine in the end, it’ll probably be better in the long run.

But his attempts at sparing maiden hearts doesn’t actually help with his biggest problem—i.e., the fact that he’s kept a consistent boner tucked into his waistband for at least a week.

_Can’t you like, make it go down, at least? It’s making the whole confident swagger you like very difficult._

I think it helps to serve as a reminder of the things you still need work on, it says. It sounds way too smug for it to all be for Jeremy’s benefit.

It’s Friday, at least, so he can go home and put all of his energy into today’s required pushups before crashing. Brooke sends him a text as he’s walking home, excited about the date they have tomorrow that Jeremy barely remembers the squip planning for him. 

Her mother is away on a business trip, and her father is going to the Home Depot 90 minutes away to daydream about remodeling the basement, it reminds him, You’ll have plenty of time. This is your chance, Jeremy. You’re going to get laid.

Jeremy groans involuntarily, his trapped dick twitching as he picks up the pace along the sidewalk. It’s a good thing no one is walking near him, but it’s still embarrassing.

By the time he gets home, he feels lightheaded, all the blood in his body pooled in his aching dick. His dad either doesn’t notice him come in or doesn’t care, which is fine by him, and he rushes upstairs to his room unobstructed and flops backwards onto his bed.

No.

_What? I didn’t say anything! Or think anything!_

You were approximately three seconds from asking permission to masturbate.

Jeremy puts a pillow over his head and muffles the long, pathetic noise he makes into it. _I’m dying. I’m literally dying. You don’t want your—host or whatever dead, right?_

You aren’t dying. All your vital signs are normal.

_You know what I mean!_

It laughs. _Laughs_. He hates that this stupid computer is advanced enough to actually make jokes, because its sense of humor _fucking sucks._

_Please, I swear, I’ll do extra pushups, I’ll give Brooke twelve orgasms, I’ll steal my dad’s credit card and buy whatever overpriced sneakers you want, just—what do I have to do?_

Wait until tomorrow.

Jeremy rolls around on the mattress, kicking his legs and holding the pillow tight to his face. Maybe he can smother himself with it. That sounds like a better plan than living with this hard-on for any longer.

_Well, put me to sleep or something, then, because I’m not going to be able to do anything else until tomorrow._

Silence.

Jeremy takes the rapidly warming pillow off of his face and sits up, looking around. _Well?_

You know what? It’s sitting on the bed next to him, staring him straight in the face with those unnervingly realistic eyes. I’ve changed my mind. Go ahead.

Jeremy does a double-take. “Really?” he squeaks out loud, then clears his throat. _I mean…really?_

Sure. Maybe you have earned it.

Jeremy wastes no time in undoing his fly, desperate to get started before his squip changes its mind. He’d rather ask it to shut off first, but there’s no telling whether it would actually do it, and it’s not worth risking pissing it off, so he just closes his eyes and tries to pretend he’s alone as he shoves a hand in his boxers.

He doesn’t come immediately, like he was kind of expecting to, but he’s grateful for the chance his body is giving him to actually enjoy this. He strokes himself roughly, the familiar feeling of his own hand instantly relaxing him, all the fantasies that have been building up flashing behind his eyelids at once like his entire spank bank has been upended over his head and overwhelming his brain.

But he’s not too interested in dragging this out for too long—he’s had enough time spent on the edge for a lifetime—so he picks up the pace quickly, twisting his wrist the way he likes most, thumbing under the head of his dick until he’s mouthing _oh fuck, oh fuck_ and—

He doesn’t come. He’s _right there_ , he can feel how tight his balls are, he can feel buzzing warmth running across his skin, but somehow, he still can’t hit that point where it tips over into an orgasm.

Oh. You didn’t actually think it would be that easy, did you?

Jeremy bites down into the meat of his hand. _What do I need to do?_

I need you to know that I’m doing all this for your own good.

_I know, I know!_

And yet you still try to disobey.

_I won’t after this, I swear, I just need it now, okay, please, please—_

You’ll take whatever I give you.

_Yes._

And give up whatever I tell you to sacrifice.

_Yes—_

You’ll do exactly as instructed, as soon as I let you orgasm?

_Yes!_ Jeremy’s still touching himself, desperate to find that peak, his whole body shaking and making the bedframe creak softly in rhythm.

Good. It snaps its fingers, and Jeremy’s dick jerks, starting to spurt onto his hand as he strokes himself through it—

“Ouch!” He yelps and jerks his hand away as a jolt of electricity arcs from his dick to his hand, which has now gone entirely numb. “What the hell!”

His dick is still twitching, dripping from the head, but the hot waves of pleasure that usually hit him with each pulse aren’t present at all.

“No, no, no no no no—“ He tries to put his hand back on himself and chase what’s left of the high the best he can, but the squip puts a hand on his shoulder and all of his joints lock. 

“Fuck!” All he can do is watch as his dick deflates before him, come seeping onto his clothes without his hand there to catch it. He feels sick, fatigued, hollowed out, instead of warm and satisfied like he should.

Happy now?

“No!” He doesn’t have the energy to focus his thoughts inwards. “What the fuck! It wasn’t, I didn’t actually— _fuck!_ ”

You got that orgasm you wanted. Now, let’s hope you don’t break your promise in return.

“You didn’t—“ Jeremy tries to scream at it more, but the next time he blinks, his whole body goes heavy, and he nearly cracks his head on the wall falling back onto the bed. His tongue feels too thick to speak, and his eyelids fall shut, leaving him sinking into sleep with his legs still halfway off the bed.

Actions have consequences, Jeremy, he hears, either as he’s drifting off or already in a dream, he can’t tell. Remember that, next time.

He doesn’t give it an answer. It’s not looking for one.


End file.
